


Forgive Me?

by midoritakamine



Series: apheeweek 2017 [1]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: APHEEWeek 2017, Historical Hetalia, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-20
Updated: 2017-02-20
Packaged: 2018-09-25 17:26:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9834386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midoritakamine/pseuds/midoritakamine
Summary: Norway holds a bit of a grudge over 967.





	

**Author's Note:**

> For apheeweek on tumblr combining the prompts of "Time" and "NorEst"
> 
> Based on the historical tidbits that in 967, Estonian vikings (Oeselians) kidnapped and sold Norwegian prince Olav Tryggvason into slavery, and that when Estonia re-declared independence in 1991, Norway was the only Nordic to never re-recognize the country's independence

"Norway?" Said nation's eyebrow twitches. "Norway, may I speak with you?" Again an eyebrow twitch, now accompanied by a quiet wish for the one calling his name to shut up. "Norway, please if I may-"

"If you may what?" Norway turns the corner of his book page down to mark his place before he looks over his shoulder. He leans back in the chair, its old wood creaking in protest at his weight. "What's it you desire to say t'me," his voice turns curt, sharp as he lapses into his native language to say, "you kidnapping bastard?"

Estonia winces, grabbing his left elbow and averting his eyes. He looks regretful. _As he should_ , thinks Norway as he turns back to his book. Why shouldn't Estonia still hold guilt for his actions? He certainly hadn't shown any regret or remorse when he did what he did. It's about time. "Norway-"

"It's the Kingdom of Norway t'you," he interrupts.

"Right... Kingdom of Norway, can you please listen to me?"

Norway turns back and rests his elbow on the back of the chair, chin propped in his hand. "Listen? To you?" Estonia nods meekly. Norway scoffs. "About what, pray tell?"

Estonia releases his elbow only to lace his fingers together. His hands are shaking, Norway notes, but he can't bring himself to care. The more this guy squirms and sweats in place the better. He deserves the uneasiness, the gut fear. The same sort of feelings Tryggvason had.

Hesitantly Estonia takes a seat next to Norway and meets his gaze. "About- it's about 967, y'know the time when-"

"When your vikings," Norway again interrupts, amused at how Estonia flinches, "pillaged my home an' stole my prince, and then later sold said prince int'a slavery? That 967?"

"One in the same," says Estonia quietly. Norway continues to be amused at how afraid he seems.

"What's to talk about, Estonia?" Norway looks back down to his book and opens it. He doesn't read, instead he stares at the words to feign disinterest. "You kidnapped 'im, you sold 'im, and he regained his freedom 'bout five years after. There's nothing to discuss."

"But there is." Norway raises a brow at the determined tone in Estonia's voice but otherwise remains unperturbed. "If I'm to be around you, and the other Nordics I figure I should make peace over the past. And- well, while he scares me Sweden and I didn't have much to discuss. Iceland and I are on decent terms," he makes a small humming sound at the mention of his brother, "and Finland and I are good pals so there's nothing to settle."

"And Denmark? He did own you, an' he sold you to the Teutonic Knights."

Estonia sighs, and Norway delights in it. "... I'm saving him for last. I figured I could set to rest the prince thing. Also, like... I was wondering something."

Norway resists the urge to roll his eyes. "No, I don't consider you a Nordic."

"Not what I was gonna ask," there's a distinct disappointment in his voice, "but thanks for that. I was wondering about 1991."

"What about it?"

"You never re-recognized me."

Norway hums and looks up. "Pardon?"

Estonia rests an elbow on the table. "From Russia, when he was all Soviet. You- Iceland was the first one to re-recognize me when I got my independence back. Denmark, Finland and Sweden all recognized me too. You're the only Nordic that never did."

Biting his lip to suppress a grin, Norway glances to the ceiling. "That's why I don't see th' need to discuss Tryggvason or 967." 

“Come again?" 

Norway stands and grabs his book. He sets his free hand on Estonia's shoulder, snickering to himself at how Estonia jumps under his touch. He's further amused at how stiff his shoulders get when he leans in, lips hovering a fraction of an inch away from his ear. "You kidnapped my prince," he whispers, "so I don't recognize you."

"... will you ever forgive me?"

Norway, his face out of Estonia's sight, allows himself to grin openly. "One condition."

"Name it!"

“Show me the Old Town sometime." Norway pulls up and begins to walk away. He waves a hand vaguely, calling, "I hear y'got some nice architecture. Show me around an' I'll consider forgiving you." He turns and looks over his shoulder. It's almost impossible to keep from smiling at the surprise and faint flush in Estonia's cheeks. "Good talk, Estonia. Look forward to the next."


End file.
